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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197489">Haunted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_Anonymous_Writer/pseuds/the_Anonymous_Writer'>the_Anonymous_Writer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October prompts 2020 [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jacksepticeye Power Hour (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_Anonymous_Writer/pseuds/the_Anonymous_Writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day twenty-five of the Egoshiptober prompt list.<br/>Chase mourns Marvin's death. But is he really gone?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chase Brody/Marvin the Magnificent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October prompts 2020 [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Haunted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had happened so quickly. They were doing fine at first, when Anti attacked them. But when he launched knives at them it was over. Jackie was fine. He was quick and could evade them with minor cuts. But Chase and Henrik didn't have those skills. They were helpless against the onslaught and Marvin knew this. That's when he had to choose. He used the strongest shield he could manage. Though the shield is only capable of protecting a small radius. But he tried anyway.</p>
<p>A few knives hit the shield. Chase let out the breath he held. But once he realized that knives flew past the protective barrier he looked back. Marvin lurched back, nearly thrown off his feet, as six knives embedded themselves in his chest. “Marvin!” Chase screamed and ran to him in a panic. He'd heard Henrik call after him with concern but he hadn't cared. All he'd cared about was Marvin. So much good that did him now...</p>
<p>Tears stung Chase's eyes as he lifted the glass to his lips. That was about a month ago. And he hadn't stopped thinking about it. They'd had a small, private funeral. It was nice, though Chase hardly remembered any of it. He remembered feeling numb. He remembered speaking at the memorial. He remembered Marvin dying in his arms.</p>
<p>They were going to be together. Him and Marvin. They'd promised each other. Once Anti was gone they would be together. “You want me to propose?” Marvin had asked when the conversation had arisen. “Well, you'll have to wait for me to get you a ring.” Chase had thought he was joking. Though true to his word, as always, Marvin had given him a ring. He had told him it's a promise. That they'd always have each other. They'd be together.</p>
<p>Chase laid his head down on the table, against his arm as he fidgeted with the ring. It was so pretty with the designs etched on its surface. Custom made, Marvin had told him. “You have my heart and soul,” Chase mumbled as he read the inscription on the inside. His head fuzzy from the alcohol, yet clear enough to dredge up these memories. He was a mess. Depression hit him hard and he'd been drinking almost constantly. He hadn't seen his kids for awhile either. Not that he could blame Stacy. He wouldn't want them to see him either.</p>
<p>There was a coolness on his hand. Sitting up, Chase pulled his hand back and rubbed his other hand over it to warm it. Strange. Why just the back of his hand? He brushed it off and groaned as he got to his unsteady feet. Maybe he should just crash for a bit. Turning, he stumbled towards his bedroom. Their bedroom... It was messy and the bed sheets were half off the bed. Chase collapsed, fully clothed, on the queen sized bed. Really what did it matter at this point. Giving in, he let the alcohol in his system drag him under.</p>
<p>He woke to the sun blaring in through the window. His head pounded. Twisting over he pulled the other pillow mostly over his head to block out the light. Why had he opened those? <b>When</b> had he opened those? After a couple minutes he pushed the pillow and blanket off of him and shambled out of bed and closed the curtains. That's when he spotted the painkillers sitting on the bedside table. He must have left those there from last time. Didn't he? Picking up the bottle he went to the bathroom.</p>
<p>The day went on as always. He didn't go anywhere. He heard noises from time-to-time though. But that wasn't too unusual. He'd been hearing things for some time but always chalked it up to side-effects of the alcohol. It was mid afternoon when he sat himself down at the dining room table with the remains of the bottle from the night before. It was earlier than usual but that didn't stop him. Chase lifted the glass when he abruptly stopped. What... what was that noise? Then his wrist felt cool. His messy, unkempt hair was brushed out of his face.</p>
<p>Dropping the glass, Chase jerked to his feet. The chair clattered loudly in the quiet room as it hit the floor. “What...?” he whispered. He looked around. There was no wind and he was alone. He swallowed and picked up the chair before grabbing some paper towels. His hands shook as he dabbed the towel to clean up the alcohol. Maybe he imagined it... That would make sense. After all he wasn't taking care of himself. Not eating well. Lack of exercise. Drinking. After the mess was cleaned up, Chase forced himself to make something to eat. A simple cup of noodles. He ate in silence then went to the bedroom and curled up in the bed.</p>
<p>“<em>I love you</em>.” He must have dozed off. Blinking his eyes open he stared at the darkness. Something moved. No... it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. His hair was brushed aside again. He didn't move. There was that noise again. It was soft. A sort of humming sound. Gentle. There, the coolness on his hand again. There was movement but Chase remained still. Then something warm yet cool lightly touched his forehead. Gently. He didn't know why but it made him feel safe. Cared for. Chase closed his eyes. He hadn't felt like that for a while.</p>
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